A Father's Mistake: Have You Ever Made a Child Cry?
by PathofOdinSonofThor
Summary: We all make mistakes, right? Father's often make their adopted children cry, right? Right? Hilariously embarrassing One-Shot, and true story, of how my character in Skyrim, Kirin Greymark, is a terrible father.


**(A/N) So, this idea has been bugging me for a few days now, and then this happened in about an hour. Naturally, I shared it with a few friends, and they said I should post it. The reason this has been bugging me for so long is because this is, in fact, a true story of something that actually happened to my Dragonborn, and it's not necessarily something I'm extremely proud of. The event stood out to me for a reason after all! Regardless, enjoy my embarrassment you sick monsters. My Beautiful Hunters deserve to know me.**

Kirin Greymark, the Dragonborn and Slayer of Alduin, Thane of Whiterun and Archmage of the College of Winterhold, held these creatures in no esteem. After having fought hordes of dremora, armies of dragons, and no small amount of draugr, a group of skeever in the woodlands of the Rift were nothing more than a kick in passing, maybe a brief lightning or firebolt but nothing more. Vampires were the real threat as of late. Kirin had only retained a brief respite after becoming the Alpha Dragon, King of the Dov before a new threat had appeared to threaten the peace of Tamriel. They came very close to making him their enemy. Granted, joining a legion of vampire hunters known as the Dawnguard just so he could kill the demons would pretty much qualify him as their enemy, but when the Master Vampire of the small legion that invaded Whiterun had taken his adopted daughter, Lucia, hostage, he nearly lost his mind.

Kirin had never really cared enough to make attachments to people or places, only needing his sword and his cape. He had been born in Skyrim, and after having traveled over the entire continent and beyond, even grazing the hostile land of Akavir for a few weeks, Kirin had decided to return to breath in the soul of his people once more, only to be captured and nearly executed by the Imperial Legion. It was then that he discovered he was Dragonborn. It was then that he had decided to join with Ulfric in pushing the Empire out of his home so his people would be able to live in freedom once and for all. Finally, he felt at home and at peace, even settling down in the arms of his wife, Ysolda.

They knew each other once as kids, but after being separated for nearly a decade, their reunion had stirred feelings within one another of something they had never felt before. Ysolda, seeing Kirin, found something other than the merchant trade to occupy her time. His grizzled, sun kissed face and salty blonde beard, a bandana wrapped around his head, spoke of the sea faring folk and adventures beyond anything she could imagine. His smile was wide and striking. His muscles were thick with the cords of years of work and struggling, scars of battles hard fought lining his torso, and yet, he still held her gently like a baby bird with a broken wing. He was a wanderer, but he was kind and gracious, never turning down someone in need. When she sent him on that fool's errand to fetch a fresh mammoth's tusk, something she desperately needed to possess her title of Whiterun's Merchant Queen, and he returned with the ivory in tow and that devilish smirk of his, she knew she had to have him.

Kirin, on the other hand, was less than impressed with Ysolda. He saw an ambitious, sometimes greedy young woman whom he could make a quick few septims off of after an easy job. In fact, maybe he could earn a bit more? She was youthful and vibrant, and quite the looker with wide hips and a petite figure, so while the goal seemed unlikely, it wasn't as if it hadn't crossed his mind every once in awhile. Boy, was he wrong on both counts. Ysolda demanded more and more of him after every mission, reminding him just what a powerful character she had been when they were kids. First, it was fetch quests. The Dragonborn had to dive into Falmer infested caves and ruins to gather chaurus chitin for rare jewelry, delicacies, collectables, and food, and then acquire rare dwemer artifacts from the frozen tundra up north shortly after. Once that was done, she made him harvest the scales and bones from dragons and acquire dozens of phials of poison from frostbite spiders. Sure, he was the Dragonborn, so it was literally his job description to slay dragons. However, the fact that possessed the soul of a Dovah, could speak their Dovahzul, and use their Thu'um to a level of mastery only Alduin himself had possessed, didn't make fighting dragons any easier. He almost drew the line at killing the giants at Sleeping Tree Camp, but something stopped him.

He was always hated doing these mundane errands for these people. It wasn't any secret that he occasionally did the work of a sellsword to make end's meet, but certain clients bugged him so often with the strangest tasks that he ended up ignoring them all together. Ysolda was the only one whom he repeatedly came back to. He didn't know what it was about her that kept dragging him back, but his body and soul repeatedly dragged him back to her no matter how many times he protested or how hard he fought those urges, and when they shared dinner together in the Bannered Mare for one night, as they dined and laughed and drank, as her presence left him at ease and he found himself doing everything in his power just to make him smile, he knew. He never went out of his way to truly please anyone, but with how desperate he grew just to see Ysolda's joyful face, he realized that his wandering was over. He had found what he was looking for- her. To him, she was home. It scared him to his very core when he realized there was no better way to express his feelings than to say it was love, so in a grand gesture, he stubbornly took her most dangerous request and fulfilled it with a smile on his face, returning to her with a possessive smirk. They united their souls that night, blood and sweat mixing with the aroma of passion and lust, professing their love to one another. Two weeks later, as was tradition in Skyrim, they were married.

It wasn't long after that they moved into Breezehome, the official estate of the Thane of Whiterun, when they adopted Lucia. Ysolda always felt bad for the girl, seeing her in the middle of the Cloud District just under the Gildergreen, panhandling at any passersby so she might not have gone hungry that night. The Merchant Queen was even taking a few strides to have the Companions take her in. Kirin, however, was having none of it. Whenever he made the trek back to Whiterun, after selling his rare ingredients to Acadia, rare artifacts to Belethor, and ancient weapons to Adrianne, the Archmage always made time to play with the girl, no exceptions, even if she had to wait a day or two. It was no secret that he loved the little brat. He held no small amount of fatherly affection for Lucia, and when his wife asked him about "the beggar girl in the Cloud District," he wasted no time in admitting he wanted to be a real father, and immediately filled out the adoption papers at Dragon's Reach. Ysolda wholeheartedly agreed on the matter. After adopting Lucia, it was as their little family had finally been completed, and the trio had found harmony, nirvana within each other.

Kirin pondered over these events as tiredly hiked back to Whiterun. His latest mission for the Dawnguard was an odd one, containing an unusually high amount of danger in the most obscure part of Skyrim that only increased the deeper he delved into the mountain he was sent to. Vampire after vampire assaulted him, their hounds following suit. The stronger ones conjured bound weapons, summoned atronachs, and raised the dead like the liches of old to fight him when he approached, and with almost a hundred thralls at their beck and call, it was like he was going up against a small army. At this outrageous number, one that they could increase through their necromancy, he essentially was. Grimly, he knew that whatever had brought hundreds of creatures of the night into the light of day wasn't anything good, and that it was his solemn duty as the Dragonborn to stop them from getting whatever they were looking for. Determinedly, he pushed forward.

When he eventually came upon the oldest ruin he had ever seen, something possibly dating all the way back to the Merethic Era before the establishment of the first real empire, he came to understand what these vampires were doing and who they were. They were of the the Volkihar Coven, the largest, most powerful, and most ancient clan of vampires that walked Tamriel. What they were searching for was an Elder Scroll.

Technically, they were probably searching for Serana, the genetic daughter of their King Harkon, and princess of their clan, but the Elder Scroll was most likely pretty high on their list of priorities. Kirin knew he had to take it. He had to kill this woman, this vampire, take her copy of the most ancient and powerful artifact in existence, and be done with it. However, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Something about Serana seemed off to him, and the more time he spent talking to her, the more he noticed the unadulterated fear in her eyes, the less and less he could deny her overall innocence, so not only did he let her live, he took her back to her family's castle off the coast of Hjaalmarch Hold and allowed her to keep the Elder Scroll. Kirin's commander, Isran, didn't like that. Sure, Kirin had been surrounded by thousands of the most powerful vampires in the world and had turned down the offer of power that Harkon had offered to him, power that if he combined with his dragon soul would have been strong enough to rival the gods themselves, but Isran couldn't see past it. The man put Kirin on grunt duty and told him to scout out two important players, friends of Isran's, for the upcoming war and convince them to join the Dawnguard.

First, though, he wanted to head back to Whiterun. Kirin had been missing for over two weeks now, so they were likely growing worried over his elongated absence, and after having fought and won against nearly insurmountable odds, he greatly desired their touch as well. He wanted nothing more than to feel the comfort of his lover and see his daughter's smiling face. Walking into the city, he chuckled to himself as he licked his lips over the thought of tasting Ysolda's lamb stew or roast mammoth's snout, and he could finally take Lucia on that hunting trip she's been asking about or read her _Warrior_ like he had promised her. Plus, seeing Lydia again would be pretty pleasant, too. The slightly younger girl, just barely old enough to have joined Whiterun's guard, was quick with a joke, and her sass was the comedic highlight of Skyrim's market capital. She even earned a few septims telling humorous stories at the inn.

"Ysa! Lucy! I'm home!" Kirin called out to his family, not realizing he forgot about his housecarl, "Come give Papa a hug!" Grinning, he took one step into the house, then jumped out of his skin. Snorting, chortling, a bead of foam or saliva- Kirin didn't care which -dripping out of its mouth as it sat curled up in a bed in the corner was none other than the least favorite pest of the Nords. A skeever had found its way in his home.

Normally, Kirin didn't pay these any mind. They never found their ways into the city, at least not above ground, and whenever he saw them outside of the city, he could kill them in a blink of an eye since he was the Dragonborn and a world renown mage. Not to mention, this skeever was noticeably smaller than the wild ones, probably just a baby. It was probably the fact that he was looking at one inside of his house, where his family slept and ate together and could easily be killed in their sleep, that made him scream like he did. Yes, he wasn't proud of it, but he screamed. Like a tea kettle. He didn't waste any time reacting to this unwanted intrusion. A flick of his wrist and a flash of light, and the nigh zombified rat was reduced to a pile of ashes.

"Hey, Papa!" came the childish voice of his daughter off from the alchemy station behind the wall, "I'm so glad your home! I wanted to introduce you to my new pet and ask you if we could keep it. Mama already said yes, but she told me that we couldn't let him stay unless you gave me your permission, so… Papa, why are you sweating?'

 _No way,_ Kirin thought to himself in a panic, _She couldn't mean…_ Lucia's next four words were the very last things he wanted to hear, and boomed like a drum in his mind.

"Papa, where's my skeever?"


End file.
